Gone
by flash13
Summary: SPOILER WARNING FOR BOOK 5! One characters feelings about the death in book 5


Gone  
  
By Flash  
  
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!SPOILER WARNING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
If anyone flames me for revealing who dies, I will laugh at them and point to the above sign. Don't want to know who dies yet? Don't read.  
  
This was a random 1st person thing that attacked me as soon as I put the book down, spawned by my feeling that dear Moony wasn't being included, and that he and Sirius could have done with at least interacting a little, what with them being old friends and all. I also didn't think that his reaction to the death was very in character, so this is my explanation. If it seems confusing, good, it's meant to show his emotional state.  
  
It's from Remus' point of view. You could probably read slash overtones in it, or just strong friendship. I leave it up to you. It wasn't meant as particularly one or the other.  
  
~~~~~{~~(@  
  
I can remember the moments before it so well, so clearly. The fight, breaking into the Department of Mysteries, adrenaline pounding with my blood, both pulsing through my veins. He was there, too. I can see him in front of me now, the fear for Harry's life warring with excitement on his face. The pain, mixed with relief, which flooded his eyes when he saw Harry alive. Then the excitement and glamour, the heroism of the fight won out.  
  
He was happier then than he had been for months, cooped up inside the dingy house he hated, the house that reminded him so strongly of the family he had despised, the memories he had run away from. Unable to fight, unable to help, to watch over Harry or even to let him know what was happening. Trapped. I should have known it would be torture for him, should have tried to find an alternative. maybe then he'd be.  
  
I'm crying again.  
  
I know he'd have been there anyway, even if it hadn't been his first escape from the house since escorting Harry to the school train. I know he would have been just as anxious, just as eager to fight, to avenge James - again - to damage the ones that had trapped him in that threatening, confining house. I know it, but I still can't stop thinking that maybe, just maybe, if I'd done something more to help. he wouldn't have been so reckless.  
  
There. I've said it. He was reckless, careless. Fearless. His belief in his own immortality, in his ability to get away with anything, was. legendary. And it let him down. At the most crucial point in his life, it finally let him down. But it was only the most crucial because it was the last, admit it Remus. At least to yourself. You knew his luck had to fail sometime. knew, but didn't believe.  
  
Didn't believe even after it had failed so many times before.  
  
The Marauder's luck. Legendary, at school. In the safe, homely walls of Hogwarts, but once you were out. Wormtail turned. James murdered. Him labelled murderer. Where was the Marauder's luck then? And his luck was Marauder's luck; they were one and the same. And they failed so many years ago. So why did you, Remus, foolishly begin to believe in it again? Because he came back? Because, after all the lonely years of wandering as an outcast, the first person to truly know you and still call you friend was returned to you?  
  
Maybe it was. Because I was not alone anymore, because at least half of the Marauders were together again. And one more, in spirit. They all blamed him for thinking Harry was James again, James returned from the grave, but I think I'm probably guiltier than you were. I just wish you were here to hear me say it, to say so many of the things I've held back on over the past year. Held off telling you. I always thought no, I can say it later. As if that ensured you would be there every time I came back, because I hadn't told you yet. Like that was any kind of insurance.  
  
I'm laughing now, at myself. I never knew a laugh could sound that sarcastic. or that mad. It may have something to do with the fact that I'm sobbing now, as well. Can you hear me now?  
  
The last Marauder left. I never thought it would be me, you know. Never thought I would be the 'last one standing'. I can almost taste the sarcasm in that phrase, which is odd, because I'm not talking. Not out loud. But I hope you can hear me.  
  
I can still hear you. I can still hear you yelling at that bitch, that demon thing. "Come on, you can do better than that!" I can still hear your voice echoing round that hall in the eerie, foreboding silence. You didn't even notice that Dumbledore had arrived, you were too happy. In your element at last. Your last.  
  
"You can do better than that!" I wish you hadn't said that, because she did, you know. She hit you right in the chest. If those words were meant to be a joke, I don't appreciate it. I'm not laughing. Though I'm still crying. Someone's trying to talk to me. I don't care. They can yell all they want, I'm not answering until I've had this out with you.  
  
Me? Mad at you? What makes you think that. Was it the fact that you went and d. and d. that you went, or maybe that fact that even that hasn't stopped me yelling at you? I do wish this person would go away, can't they see I'm yelling at you in hear? That's a shock, I bet. Moony, actually yelling at someone? Nah, not possible. Especially not you. Not you. but here I am, and here you. aren't. So, yes, I'm mad and yelling at you. I'm also broken and sobbing in a ball on the carpet.  
  
I watched you fall. I watched the light hit you, watched you fall behind that veil. it was so slow, so very slow. I saw it. I saw you d.  
  
Look at me, it's been over a week and I still can't say it. I can't even say your name, dear friend. That's your fault. You've shortened my vocabulary, you. you. dog. Bet you can't stop laughing now, can you. You'll be sat there with James and Lily, looking down at me and laughing while she tells you to stop being mean, being cruel. I agree. I'm not laughing.  
  
I saw you disappear, and I froze. My mind froze. My heart. well, I think it short-circuited. Not that you'd know what that means, Muggle appliances always were your weakest point. I went into a place where the last minute hadn't happened, where you couldn't have come into the hall yet. I didn't believe it. Couldn't. You see, that would leave me all alone in this big, wide world, and the last time that happened I was lost for twelve years.  
  
I was watching from some distant, far off place as Harry ran past me. You hurt him, as well, you know. It wasn't me that grabbed him, held him from going to you. I don't know who it was, maybe my conscience, perhaps even a little of the dormant wolf recognising danger to the cub of the pack. Our pack. It wasn't my voice that called to him, as he called for you. He was so certain that you would answer, that you had to answer. But he knew, part of him knew, that you wouldn't be coming back through that veil. Otherwise he wouldn't have fought me. Whatever me it was that held him, wrapped my arms around his chest as he fought.  
  
"SIRIUS! SIRIUS!"  
  
"There's nothing you can do, Harry -"  
  
That wasn't my voice. You weren't gone, why would I tell him there was nothing he could do? It didn't even sound like me.  
  
"Get him, save him, he's only just gone through!"  
  
"- it's too late, Harry."  
  
That voice was so harsh, aching. Forced out through a throat that painfully refused to let the words through willingly. It was my throat, so it obviously wasn't me talking.  
  
"We can still reach him -"  
  
Harry sounded so desperate, so angry and hurt. Why would you do that to our cub?  
  
"There's nothing you can do, Harry . nothing . he's gone."  
  
I didn't say it. I can believe it, can't accept it! Not now, not when you had only just come back to me, not when there were so many things I had to say. so many things to tell you about. You lost so much of your life in that prison, I wanted to undo that, make up for all the time you had missed. I can't accept that you've gone away for good. I won't. You'll laugh at my stubbornness again when I next see you, I know you will. And that probably won't be too long from now. But you can't be gone, you can't. you were all I had left.  
  
Maybe I was on an automatic pilot, as I held Harry back, spoke so calmly. it hurt even the other me to say those words - you could hear it in his voice. He couldn't look at anyone. But he healed the Longbottom's kid, well, took the hex off him. And kept hold of Harry. for a few minutes. Maybe less. He's a good cub, we should be proud of him. Our little Marauder cub. When he broke free, the other me started to run after him, but Dumbledore was faster. And everything was getting very fuzzy, very faint. So far away. I wasn't going to accept it, you know. Not even other me.  
  
I loose track of what happened after that. I seem to have lost several weeks, actually. Did you steal them? I don't really want them back, but thanks for the offer. I don't want any more time at all, actually. Not alone, not like this. You're welcome to more of my time, if you want it. Now would be a good time to steal. You see, I think it's trying to sink in. That you're gone, not coming back.  
  
Your name was in the paper this morning. I couldn't read what it said about you; I only saw your name. it hit me, trying to sink in. I came here in desperation. I was trying to prove that it was wrong, that you were still here. I ran, believing that at any moment you would jump out from behind a door, or stomp downstairs cursing your mother and her damm portrait again. I came to your house, you see. It was the only hope, that you would still be imprisoned here, with your past and your anger.  
  
The house was as empty as I felt.  
  
I'm still here. I seem to have collapsed on your sitting room floor, someone's trying to get me up but they don't matter. All that matters is that you, Padfoot, are irreversibly not here. That you, Padfoot, have gone and deserted me again. Gone and died on me.  
  
I'm not forgiving you for this one, Sirius. Not until I see you again, see you listening to these words, see you laughing at me. Because now I'm all alone again, and I can't stand it. Not again, not now. but with Voldemort here again I probably won't be alone for long. I'll come and see you soon, traitor. As soon as I can stop the sobs that are making my lungs ache, as soon as I can stand up and see clearly enough to find someone to kill me.  
  
I remember someone, I don't know who, saying that this was the way you would have wanted to go. Fighting. They're wrong. You didn't want to go at all, so how can you have had a preferred way to leave us? But I do. I have enough reason to want an end, and to choose one. Do you know how I want to die, Padfoot?  
  
Soon.  
  
~~~~~{~~(@ End.  
  
Well, that was the result of my first time through the book, apart from certain sections which I have read a few times. If you got this far, I applaud you. Please let me know what you thought of my rambling. 


End file.
